Demon Days
by danger.angel
Summary: During the summer of 1995, Angelina Johnson decides the world is going to end and the only course of action is to throw caution to the wind.
1. Sat July 1, 1995 to Tues July 4, 1995

**Demon Days**

**Saturday July 1, 1995**  
I've decided that this is going to be best summer holiday of my life since the Apocalypse or something like it is right around the corner.

Ever since the final task of the Triwizard's Tournament there's been a dark cloud of impending doom hovering over everything. Despite what people are insinuating, Cedric was killed by You Know Who. Harry Potter isn't insane. Hogwarts used to be a safe place until he came. Basilisks, weird DADA teachers, and the list goes on. The only person who would want Harry dead is You Know Who or someone like him. Doesn't matter really, because there's a threat. It won't be long before things like what happened at the Quidditch World Cup become commonplace.

So, the world is going to end soon and all I can do is have a bit of fun before the big event. I don't want to die regretting anything. This summer is going to be about happy memories and doing all the things I've always wanted to. There's nothing stopping me. My parents are so wrapped up in themselves and each other that they hardly notice when I'm around. I've access to my own Gringotts vault, which is filled all that money my grandmother gave me because she didn't want Mum to have it. Why haven't I thought of doing this before?

**Monday July 3, 1995**  
Alicia and I have been best friends since we were five. Mum couldn't be bothered to tutor me at home so she asked Dad to find someone willing to do so. I never got along with any of the tutors they hired—I was a right cow to them. They all quit after a few weeks. It so happened that Dad heard one of his co-workers talking about the little school his wife ran out of their home and the next day Mum dressed me in my best clothes and sent me through the floo to the Spinnets. 

I didn't like Alicia at first. She was so bubbly and happy and she just wouldn't shut her gob. She was always asking me if I liked this or if I liked that and what were my parents like? I didn't understand her. What did she have to be so happy about? At five, I knew that I had to choose my words carefully, that I had to think about things before I did them. Alicia was free and I envied her. My jealousy got so bad that I deliberately set out to hurt her. While we were playing in the yard and she was chattering on as usual, I screamed at her to shut up. I told her that I didn't want to listen to anything that she had to say because she was stupid and annoying. Alicia burst into tears and ran in the house. Her mother came out afterwards. She didn't yell. Calmly, she called me a spoiled brat and ordered me to apologize to her daughter. I'd never been ordered to do anything before.

I still clearly remember Mrs. Spinnet looking down at me, barely controlling her anger. Everything changed for me at that moment. I believed that Mrs. Spinnet hated me and I wanted to do anything for her not to feel that way. I liked Mrs. Spinnet. She was the first adult who didn't look at me like some little doll to be dressed up or ignored.

Alicia was in her bedroom, still crying. She didn't believe me when I said I was sorry. I told her I wasn't leaving the room until she did. I stayed in there for an hour. During that hour I kept poking around at her things. I found some cards and asked her if she wanted to play. When Mrs. Spinnet came to announce that it was time to go home, she found us flicking the cards at each other.

It's partly due to Alicia and her family that I am the way I am. I doubt that I would've been sorted into Gryffindor if it weren't for her. When I was sorted, my parents wrote me, their disapproval evident in the seemingly innocuous words they used. They would've preferred Ravenclaw, or maybe even Slytherin. They didn't see how Gryffindor traits would help me make my way into the world. Being brash and loyal was well and good for people who didn't plan to go anywhere and do anything. You needed cunning and intelligence if you wanted to be someone.

When my parents choose to get involved in my life they've always left me with the feeling that they're disappointed in me. I've gotten used to it, but it still hurts. Alicia always knows just what to say to make me feel somewhat like myself again.

Because Alicia is the closest person to me I can't go about my plan without telling her and at least trying to involve her. She needs a bit of fun in her life. Alicia spends most of the hols at home with her mum, taking care of kids and generally being bored. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to help her out?

---

The Spinnet's home is just as I expect it. There are children outside playing in the yard, screaming and throwing things at each other. Mrs. Spinnet is with them, keeping a watchful eye. She sees me through the window and waves. I wave back and start up the stairs to Alicia's room.

"So, why aren't you outside helping to look after the little bastards?" I ask as I push Alicia's door open.

She's at her desk, scribbling frantically on a piece of parchment. She smiles briefly at me before starting to scribble again. "I told Mum that I'm not interested in helping her this year. I told her I deserve to choose what I want to do for the summer. She didn't like it but she didn't complain."

I arch my brow as I move to the desk. "So what's really going on?" I ask as I quickly scan the parchment. It's a letter. I catch words like "love" and "miss you" before Alicia quickly folds it.

"Alicia's got a boyfriend," I sang. "Who is it? George or Lee?"

"Why would you think it's either of them?"

"I have eyes. It was like you were trying to decide between fish or chips. Just put them together I say."

"You are disgusting." Alicia laughs. "It's neither of them."

"It's someone else? Interesting."

Alicia begins to turn an alarming shade of red. "I wanted to tell you about it sooner, but I didn't because I thought it would be best to keep it a secret while we were at school. It wouldn't have been a good time."

I stop smiling. This is starting to sound serious. "Who is it?"

Alicia takes a deep breath. "I know you'll be mad, but I hope you won't be so mad that we'll have a huge row about this."

"Who is it?" I repeat, holding my breath.

"Marcus Flint."

I'm too shocked to speak. A hundred images of Flint's sneering face come to my mind. I'm caught between anger, disbelief, shock and a strange need to laugh.

"We sort of met up during Christmas hols and he was different, civil, and we started talking and then there was kissing."

"Kissing? What about his teeth?"

"There are ways to get around them. Kissing him is different." Alicia smiles.

I have to sit down. "I cannot believe I'm sitting here talking to you about kissing Marcus Flint." I shuddered for dramatic effect. "Tell me you're having me on. This is all some joke."

Alicia shakes her head.

"How can you go out with him after everything? The things he did during our matches, the insults. Not to understate things, but Marcus is not one of the most pleasant people on this planet."

"I know." Alicia sat down beside me. "He has these moments where I just want to hex him, but he's a good person. He's not like he was in school. He's grown up. He doesn't have to pretend for people like Malfoy anymore."

"Alright, maybe he's not as bad as he seems, but there's still the issue of him being a Death Eater in training."

Alicia's reaction is immediate. "He's not a Death Eater and he's never going to be!" she shouts. "Just because he was in Slytherin doesn't mean he's going to be a Death Eater."

"Well, I'm quite sure he doesn't believe in welcoming the Muggle-borns to our world with open arms."

"Marcus doesn't know what he believes on that subject. He's just got out of school and he's figuring things out on his own. For the first time in his life there's nobody telling him how to feel and how to behave. The whole world has opened up for him." Alicia looks like she did when she used to fancy Gilderoy Lockhart, all wide-eyed and tragic. It's love.

I shake my head. "I don't know what to think right now."

"I'm not asking you for your blessing, but I am asking you to understand a little and to try to get to know him."

"Get to know him?"

"I told him we were going to come see him later on this week." I'm about to protest when Alicia puts on her pleading face, the one where she makes her eyes large and her lips tremble. "We'll make a day of it."

I curse under my breath because I've already given in.

Alicia and I spend the rest of the day in her room, reading Witch Weekly and listening to the Wireless. She lets me see the letter. I make fun of it half-heartedly. This is not how I imagined spending the first day of summer.

**Tuesday July 4, 1995**  
MARCUS FUCKING FLINT! 

Alicia owled me. Marcus is free on Friday. Friday it is.


	2. Thur July 6, 1995 to Mon July 10, 1995

**Thursday July 6, 1995**  
I wake up and look outside my window and see it coming. It's a tiny dot at first, moving erratically, this way and that. As it comes closer I see that it's an owl. Errol.

I open my window. Errol glides past me and slams into my wall. I take the letter from him as he gets his bearings. I give him more than enough feed before sending him on his way.

Fred's letter is short and to the point. He and George are working on something he's very excited about. His parents have decided to keep the family close to home so it won't be like last summer where he could come and go as he pleased. We'll likely see each other twice before we go back to Hogwarts. "We'll just have to make the best of the times we see each other," the letter says. I don't know if it's a hint.

After the Yule Ball, we sort of danced around each other, flirting and snogging, but never committing to anything. If it is a hint that he wants to have sex, I know I should feel put out. My Mum's always saying something about not wanting to buy a broom but wanting to ride it for free. I'm glad we're not serious because then I'd feel guilty about all the things I'm going to do this summer.

I write back, telling him nothing about Marcus and Alicia. (She swore me to secrecy). I tell Fred to set a date to come visit me. I'm wary of going to The Burrow, where there's absolutely no privacy.

After lunch I read Fred's letter again and it hits me that he sounds the same as he always did. Cedric's death doesn't seem to have changed him, made him aware of anything. He was never that fond of Cedric. Fred thought he was a bit like Gilderoy Lockhart, someone with a nice smile and a large ego. I always liked Cedric. He was sweet. I wouldn't have minded going out with him, but he was never interested. I'm not bitter. I can't be when I think of Cho's grief-stricken face.

**Friday July 7, 1995**  
_The Daily Prophet_ is run by arses. Instead of asking Fudge what really happened at the end of the Tournament, they allow him to make long-winded statements and have their idiot journalists write articles about how crazy Harry is and how You Know Who is not back. Are these people fucking serious? What the bloody hell was that at the Quidditch World Cup then? It's going to be a terrible day.

**--**

Alicia floos to my house. She's wearing the dress she usually wears if we're going some place where there'll be adults. She's taken care with her hair and make-up. It's love, or something like it.

From my house, we floo to Marcus'. It's half the size of my own home with three floors, five bedrooms, three baths, a conservatory, and a garden that would make Madame Sprout orgasm.

Alicia has told me all about Marcus. His parents both died in a fire when he was six. He had been living with relatives until he left school and inherited his parents' fortune. He was never fond of his relatives, but he didn't start acting like it until recently. Alicia wouldn't say anything else. Instead she started talking about Marcus' job at Gringotts. He processes loans.

"Not what I expected with a last name like Flint," I say as Alicia leads me to the second floor sitting room.

"The money came from his mother's side," she replies.

I wonder which side the looks come from.

Marcus looks like I remember him: big, tall, and mean. I'm hesitant about the meeting until I see the smile he gives Alicia. He holds her hand and kisses her gently. There really is a way around his teeth.

"Johnson," Marcus greets when he and Alicia manage to pull away from each other.

"Call me Angelina," I say. "I've already started calling you Marcus."

Marcus is surprised. Alicia grins. She doesn't think it's going to be a bad day.

We don't do much. We lounge around the sitting room and talk about Quidditch and other things we won't remember tomorrow. It's surprisingly easy to talk to Marcus. Once or twice he says things I want to hex him for, but it's the same when I'm talking to Fred, George, or Lee. I catch myself laughing at one of his jokes. It shouldn't be this easy to get along with him. I try to muster up some righteous indignation but I can't. It's summer hols and Hogwarts is far away. Next year I won't even be there.

After a few hours, Marcus and Alicia start looking at each from the corner of their eyes. They want to be alone but they don't want to seem impolite.

I roll my eyes. "If you two want to shag then by all means. Just go upstairs and make sure there's a silencing spell."

Alicia blushes and Marcus grins.

"What about you?" Alicia asks.

"Just point me in the direction of the liquor and I'll be alright."

"I didn't think you drank," Marcus says.

"I'm looking to have a bit of fun this summer."

"What kind of fun?" Alicia asks.

"The illegal and legal kind," I reply with a smirk.

Marcus smiles and looks at me as if he's never seen me before. "I like you," he says. It's about the best comment one can get from Marcus Flint when you're not his girlfriend.

Before he and Alicia leave, Marcus orders the house elf to bring a bottle of wine and two bottles of firewiskey to the sitting room. I don't bother to use a glass.

**--**

Alicia and I stumble through my floo around ten. I'm shit-faced and Alicia has to help me up to my room. Neither of us is particularly worried about my parents catching us.

She helps me get off my clothes and puts me to bed. All the while, I tell her that I'm not angry about her and Marcus anymore. I kind of understand now. I rather like him, in fact. I was wrong about him and I admit it. It's important that I tell her these things, just in case.

**Saturday July 8, 1995**  
I feel like I've been hit by two bludgers when I wake up. I drank a whole bottle of firewhiskey and a quarter of the wine last night. Marcus is likely laughing his arse off. I'm laughing too.

I've never been drunk before. I've seen others lose their inhibitions and become the sum total of their wants and desires. I couldn't afford to leave my control behind. Right now I feel like there's nothing to lose.

Errol makes another appearance. Fred's coming on Tuesday. I'll have to go to Diagon Alley either tomorrow or Monday.

**Monday July 10, 1995**

I have a lie-in on Sunday because despite the potions I'm still feeling a bit off. This experience has not put me off drinking.

Mum tells me that she and Dad are planning a trip in August. Fiji or some place like it. She asks me if I want to go. I almost think about saying yes because I know she doesn't want to take me. She's only asking so she can tell people that she's really a good mum and I just never want to be seen with my parents. I decline like I always do when we have these conversations. Mum smiles and flits away.

---

Diagon Alley is crowded as usual. I see a few people from school and stop to chat for a while before I continue on my way. In front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, I see a notice. Balthazar Takahashi from the Chudley Cannons will be appearing in two weeks. The Cannons are one of the worst teams in the league and I'd be embarrassed to call myself a fan, but Takashi is one of the best players in the League and he's quite fit. I know where I'll be in two weeks.

I stop by Flourish and Blotts and pick up a book on Apparation. I'd almost forgotten that my test is later on this month.

Finally, I make my way to the potions shop. I'm out in less than five minutes with a contraceptive potion.


	3. Tue July 11, 1995 to Thur July 13, 1995

**A/N**: I feel the need to clear up something after Silver Scribes' review. Demon Days is not a chaptered story. I'm posting in instalments so that I can actually manage the whole thing. The story is not very long but it's not very short either. Demon Days is basically a telling of some of the meaningful things that happened to Angelina during the summer of 1995. I randomly choose how many entries I'll post and for that reason it may seem as if nothing is happening.

* * *

**Tuesday January 11, 1995**  
Fred is one of the few blokes I can trust, but that's not why I choose him. If it's going to be anyone, it's going to be Fred. I like him. He makes me laugh. I don't know if other people would consider that enough to make them want to have sex with someone, but I'm not other people. I've never been fond of my virginity anyway. 

Mum and Dad are away so it's perfect. Fred and I immediately go up to my room, where I've already got food and butterbeer waiting. Fred sits on my bed and sips the butterbeer, looking around my room. It's big compared to his room. It's also been redecorated since the last time he's been here. The motif is no longer a princess in her tower but New Orlean's Mardi Gras. Dad said it looked like a whore's boudoir.

"It's nice," Fred mutters when I ask him about the change. "It's different."

I know he doesn't care about the room. He's likely thinking about how much it cost to redecorate and wishing he had that kind of money. Fred is envious of my parents' wealth. He thinks I have the perfect life. I never said Fred that was one of the most observant people around. Alicia noticed that my life could be utter shite after one day here. We were six.

"So what do you want to do?" I ask.

Fred shrugs. "Dunno. Do you have anything in mind?"

I don't hesitate. I just kiss him.

When we've gotten our clothes off Fred asks me if I'm sure. I almost reach for my wand. "Are _you_ sure?" I retort. He grins.

The first time is awkward. Our limbs tangle, we move when we shouldn't, and God does it hurt like hell, at least for me anyway. Fred feels bigger than he looks. For most of it, all I feel is stinging sensation every time Fred thrusts. When I begin to feel something approaching an orgasm, Fred comes. He looks odd, like he's in pain.

"Are you alright?" Fred asks. He's lying next to me, staring at the ceiling.

I punch him in the arm. "It's only my virginity. Other girls have lost theirs and have lived to tell the tale."

"What will you say when you tell yours. That wasn't spectacular or anything like that."

I laugh. "I didn't think it was going to be. That's why we're going to do it again."

"Again?" he squeaks. "But what about you?"

I motion to the pain potions on the bedside table.

"God, you planned this, didn't you?" Fred says, surprised.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. If he even insinuates I'm some kind slut I'm throwing him out of my bed and never speaking to him again.

"Do you want to or not?"

Fred seems slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess. This changes everything, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I took your virginity."

"And? It's not like you have to marry me or anything. We had sex, Fred. That's it."

"That's it?" He looks confused. "I'm not ready for anything serious," he says quietly. "But if I were I'd want it to be with you."

A part of me has always known that. I'm happy that he's confirmed what I've always secretly believed, but I'm irritated that he won't shut up and fuck me. I don't want to talk about relationships. I want to have sex. Alicia says that sex gets better each time. It's like practice. I want to know what the bloody hell I'm doing and should be doing by the end of tonight.

"Fred, stop with the serious talk, alright? I just want to have a bit of fun. I'm not pressuring you into anything."

Fred looks at me the way Marcus did. He's not about to tell me he likes me, though. He wants me to say something.

"I feel the same way about you too," I say, finally figuring it out. "I'm not ready for commitments either, but if I were I'd want to be committed to you." I sound like a cheesy love song.

I seem to have appeased Fred because he kisses me.

**--**

Before this Alicia liked to say that I wasn't a virgin so I should shut up and stop complaining. Oral sex, I said, was not sex, even though the word sex was mentioned.

I became aware of sex during third year. Before that, I knew it existed but I never thought of the possibility that _I_ would be having it. When I did finally realize that one day I was going to be one of the older girls meeting someone in an empty classroom I decided I'd never be like some of them, the ones who gave but never got. I've always been a bit self-centered. I'm never going to get into a situation without the prospect of getting something out of it. I like making other people happy, but I like it when I'm happy too. If everyone's motto was giving is better than receiving, we'd all be happier because we'd all be getting something.

Fred gives so I'm content with him. He's content with me too. When he leaves, we're both grinning our ears off.

**Wednesday July 12, 1995**  
I get an owl from Katie. She's in Puerto Rico for the summer. Her parents are magical theorists who travel all over the world and write about magical innovations and the like. They're in Puerto Rico, writing about transfiguring potions. Katie's enjoying the island. The mosquitoes are eating her alive, but there's so much new magic and the blokes are real fit and impressed with her accent.

"Hope you're having as much fun as me," she writes. I snort. I love Katie, but I know we differ on the meaning of fun. The most she'll do is snog a few guys.

**Thursday July 13, 1995**  
Alicia and I are going 'round Marcus' again. This time we're leaving from her house since Alicia's the only one home. Her Dad's at work and her Mum's taken the little bastards out to some park for a scavenger hunt. I watch as Alicia primps and preens and comment when she asks for advice.

"So what exactly did you mean when you told Marcus you were hoping to have a bit of fun?" Alicia asks. She's chosen a blue dress with a low collar. It shows her cleavage perfectly.

"Exactly what you think I mean. I think the world is going to end or it's about to get really mashed up soon." I tell Alicia what I've been thinking for the past few weeks. I watch for her reaction. There doesn't seem to be any.

She looks at my reflection in the mirror. "You sound like Marcus. He says if we don't kill each other this time we will very soon."

"That's really philosophical. I didn't think he had it in him."

Alicia smiles a little. "You're both right. Marcus says we should be having as much fun as possible because in two years we won't know what it is."

"What exactly are you saying?"

"That maybe Marcus and me want to have a bit of fun too. It'd be better if it was the three of us. We'd look out for each other and Marcus would keep things from getting out of hand."

I go over to Alicia and hug her from behind. "I'm glad you're doing this with me. I'm glad that it's the both of you. I don't know much about Marcus, but I know enough."

Alicia touches my hand. She looks as if she's about to cry. I know how she's feeling. She's just admitted out loud that the war is coming. Everything will be leading up to that moment now. How can you not despair when everything's leading up to disaster?

"I had sex with Fred two days ago," I say, changing the subject.

Alicia's face contorts and her eyes widen. "You what?"

"I had sex with Fred Weasley on Tuesday."

Alicia's mouth hangs open for a moment. "How was it?"

I shrugged. "It was alright. I didn't see stars but we got it right at the end."

"So are you two together now?"

I snorted. "Fred doesn't want to go there and neither do I. Fun, remember?"

Alicia nods. "I used to think you two were made for each other. I used to think about hearts and rainbows, and you and me marrying Fred and George in a double ceremony."

"And now?"

"Who knows?"

**--**

Marcus already has the wine and firewiskey out by the time we arrive. I hug him and kiss him on the cheek. He pushes me away, embarrassed, but pleased that I've taken such a liking to him so quickly. We eat and talk and go outside and race Marcus' brooms. We start drinking as soon as we're back in the house. An hour later, Alicia and Marcus have gone upstairs and I've fallen asleep.

I wake up with my head aching a bit and my clothes sticking to me. I notice that I don't smell particularly well. I sit up on the sofa and get my bearings. Across from me, dark eyes burn holes in my skin. Montague reclines in the armchair, staring at me with a perplexed look. Why is she here? he's asking himself.

We stare at each other.

It feels like my body is in the present and my mind is somewhere in the past. I don't know what to say to Montague. I don't know why he's here. I don't trust him and I don't particularly like him. Though, he does look a lot more handsome than he did a few weeks ago. It must be alcohol.

"Nicco," Marcus shouts. He and Alicia come into the room, hanging on to each other.

Montague's perplexed look deepens. "Cousin," he replies.

I snort. I hate formalities. It's one of the reason I hate being around my family and their friends. Somewhere, my family is related to the Malfoys by marriage. The thought of calling Draco cousin or Lucius uncle makes me want to wretch.

"What are you doing here?" Marcus asks, sitting beside me. He pulls Alicia down with him.

"There's news," Montague says uncomfortably, glancing at Alicia and me.

"I guess this is our cue to leave," I say, getting up. I almost wish I didn't. My head spins but I stay upright. "I need to take a shower. I smell like I've had a tumble with one of Hagrid's animals."

"Second floor, third door on the right," Marcus replies. "Call Tinny to wash your clothes."

"I'm going to shower too," Alicia says, following me.

"Cousin?" I ask when we're on the second floor.

"Their mothers are sisters. Marcus was living with the Montagues. Nicco's the only one he can tolerate being around."

I feel much better after the shower. I put on one of the soft bathrobes with the Flint family crest on it and go out in the hall. Alicia's waiting for me.

"Should we go down?" she asks.

I shrug. "We should, unless you want me to start poking around your boyfriend's things."

She punches me lightly and starts down the hall.

Montague looks like he hasn't moved since we left. Marcus is near the windows. His face is grim. I notice that there's an assortment of potions on the sitting room table.

"Are we interrupting?" I ask.

Marcus grunts. He turns and his smiles when he sees Alicia. She's also only wearing a bathrobe.

"This is surreal," Montague mutters. He takes a cigarette out of pocket and lights it.

"Can I have one?" I ask. I've only smoked once before. I didn't like it much, but I'm willing to try it again.

Montague's eyes grow wide. He nods and hands me a cigarette and a matchbook.

The cigarette is sweet, not bitter like the one I tried previously. "This is good," I tell him. "I didn't think they could taste like this."

"You've been smoking Muggle cigarettes," he says disdainfully. "It's all about addiction with them. For _us_ it's about the taste."

"Nicco likes sweet things," Marcus says, laughing.

Montague glares at him.

I'm sweet, I think about saying. I stop myself because me coming onto Montague would be just too bizarre.

"Sweet and innocent," Marcus continues.

Montague's angry now. The referred to subject is something of a sore topic with him. Last year, he'd gotten tangled in a mess involving a second year Hufflepuff. Everyone knows he didn't do anything wrong but it doesn't stop people from teasing him.

"Maybe we should go Florean Fortescue's to see if there are any eligibles for our dear boy."

Montague is seething.

"Don't get angry. He's just playing," Alicia tells him.

"Shut the hell up," he shouts.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that," Marcus yells. He looks very much like the violent troll people accuse him of being. "This is my house and I'll not have you disrespecting her."

Both cousins shoot each other nasty looks. It seems as if they're about ready to pounce on each other.

"I'm hot," I announce.

"Angelina!" Alicia cries.

I blush a little. "Sorry. It's the firewhiskey."

Montague looks distressed now. He shakes his head and sits down. "Bloody surreal," he mutters.

"I think we should be going now," Alicia whispers to Marcus. "You two need to talk more."

I'm starting to feel more like Montague. There's something going on here that I know nothing about. I ask Alicia about it when we get back to her house.

"Long story short: Marcus never liked the Montagues because they looked down on his father. Malcolm Flint was old and ugly and the Montagues hated him. Marcus looks like him so they never treated him well. Despite all of that they expect him to fulfill his family obligation and join the pureblood crusade. He told them to fuck off so they're working out a way to take back his mum's money. Nicco's been updating him on the situation."

"Are they going to get back the money?"

"Marcus says he's not worried. He knows he'll keep it. The Montagues trying to take it away is like foreplay. They're giving him time. If he doesn't agree to their demands the last thing Marcus is going to have to worry about is his galleons."

I shake my head. And Wizards like to call Muggles crazy.


	4. Sat July 15, 1995 – Fri July 21, 1995

**Saturday July 15, 1995**  
I once read a book that talked about all the layers of skin the body had. The artist at Ley Lines says that he has to get the ink deep into my skin to guarantee that it stays. I wonder what layer the ink will penetrate to.

I don't get anything big. The tattoo is small, something only a lover will find.

I thought about getting a lion, but I'm not as attached to that symbol as I once thought I was. Instead I get the Adinkra symbol Sesa Woruban. It's a star with a hole in the center, surrounded by what looks like limp waves. It means: "I transform my life."

The artist likes it. He's tired of doing Celtic designs.

"What else is popular?" I ask, flinching as the needle comes down on my skin. I refused the pain potions because I've taken too much this week.

"Honestly," his voice lowers, "Some of the young ones are coming in trying to get the Dark Mark on their arms. They want to be ready to show their loyalty when He finally shows himself."

"I thought people didn't believe he was back. _The Prophet_—"

"Is run by arses," he cuts me off. "He's back. The young ones who come in hear their parents talking. Knockturn Alley is busier than ever. I'm thinking of making trip there myself."

"For what?"

"I don't care if it's Dark Arts or not. I want to be ready if something ever happens around here. I don't think anything they taught me at Hogwarts is going to do much good if an attack happens. Lined us up for the slaughter, that's what I think the Ministry's done. I can't tell you how long people have been trying to change the curriculum at Hogwarts."

The artist goes on ranting and I stop listening.

I don't want to die. I don't want to accept all this and wait for death to come. I want to fight.

**Sunday July 16, 1995**  
I wonder if the reason the Ministry's denying that You Know Who is back is because they're working with him. There's no war coming, just a huge change in the way things are done. One of my Muggle-born friends told me about the Holocaust in Germany. It wasn't a war at first, just a change in the laws and then people began to be shipped to the death camps.

If You Know Who takes over is that what he'll do with the Muggle-borns?

**Tuesday July 18, 1995**  
Fred and I owl each other every other day. I don't notice the change in the letters until today. He tells me a bit more about what he and George are working on. He says that they came into some money and are thinking about starting their own business. They're going to be rich, according to him.

He sounds like how a strutting peacock would look. He's trying to impress me. Why?

I've given up trying to understanding what goes on in Fred Weasley's head.

**Friday July 21, 1995**  
Marcus and Alicia are going to Paris for the weekend. Of course, I'm the only one who knows this. Mrs. Spinnet thinks Alicia is staying over at my house. God, I hope nothing happens that requires Mrs. Spinnet to owl or visit.

I'm sitting at my desk, thinking of excuses as to why Alicia wouldn't be at the house if worse comes to worst when Tabby, Mum's personal house elf, pops into my room. I'm supposed to make myself presentable and go to her sitting room. We have company.

Mum's sitting in her favourite chair, looking every bit the society wife when I enter. She gives me a once over and smiles. She bought this dress for me two weeks ago. It's a light shade of green and the corset makes sure that I'll have many male admirers if I wear it in public. Recently, Mum has become very interested in marrying me off into a proper Wizarding family.

A woman sits across from Mum. She's the type my mother likes to closely associate with. Her beauty matches her own and from the looks of her robes it's clear so does her wealth. The woman sits proudly, her dark hair pulled up in a complicated style. Her olive-toned skin is flawless. Her eyes are familiar. They're Montague's eyes.

"Angelina, this is Maria Montague," Mum says.

I curtsy because it's what polite and proper pureblood girls do. Madame Montague smiles approvingly.

"She's also brought her son, Niccolaio."

Montague is skulking in a corner, examining the items on Mum's corner shelf.

"He plays Quidditch at Hogwarts so I suppose you two know each other."

"Yes. He's tried to kill me on more than one occasion," I reply sweetly.

Mum narrows her eyes at me, but Maria laughs.

"I can't believe you let her play. There are so many other things she could be doing with her time. After all, Quidditch is a very dangerous sport."

"Ms. Johnson is not as delicate as she looks," Montague says. "I daresay she's tried to kill me on a few occasions."

"I'm blushing," I reply with an edge of sarcasm. "I didn't know you thought so well of me to call me an attempted murderer."

"I'm sure he'll tell you exactly what he thinks of you when you take him out to the garden," Mum says. "Madame Montague and I have important to things to discuss."

Tea parties or blood supremacy? People are meeting. That's what the artist at Ley Lines told me.

My parents have never voiced any anti-Muggle sentiments, but I hardly know what food they like so I can't be sure of anything. My parents don't seem the Death Eater type. They're sympathizers at most.

"Do you have anymore of those cigarettes?" I ask Montague when we get out to the garden. Our mothers won't be able to see us from sitting room.

Montague hands me three and his matchbook. "Your mouth will get you in trouble one day, Johnson."

I inhale deeply and smile. "Possibly. So, why is your mum here? Why are _you_ here?"

"My mother needed to talk to yours."

"And you?"

"I went to see Marcus this morning. He isn't at home. He's not at Gringotts either"

"So you think I know where he is? Why would I know something like that?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you were parading around his house naked the last time I saw you."

"I was not naked. I bet you wish I were, though."

Montague schools his expression blank. I laugh.

"I don't know where Marcus is. You'll just have to wait until he gets back to talk to him."

"So he is coming back?"

"How should I know?"

Montague looks as if he wants to throttle me. "You tell me where's he gone and when he's coming back and I'll you why my Mum's here."

"You're assuming that I care or that I don't know."

Montague studies me. Am I bluffing or not? He takes out a cigarette for himself. "The pureblood families are meeting. It looks like what Potter and Dumbledore said is true. He's back."

"And your Mum wants my parents to join the cause?"

"We're not as united as you think. Some believe in the anti-Muggle stance but hate the killing, others want to start casting Avada Kedavra as soon as possible. Some are neutral and others would follow Dumbledore to hell and back."

"And your mother?"

"Like any good Slytherin, she wants to make sure her family survives no matter the outcome."

"My parents didn't go to Hogwarts, you know. My Dad was always travelling when he growing up so he was tutored. My mum was schooled in the Caribbean. They only learned about the details of the House system when they emigrated. My Mum's family has their own symbol, kind of like a crest. It's a snake with its tail in its mouth. No beginning and no end, just being, forever."

"What are you saying?"

"That our mums are a lot alike. My mother will see that her line continues."

We reach an enclosure made of hedges ten feet high. Inside it is a bench and a stone fountain.

"Marcus took Alicia to Paris for the weekend," I say as I sit down.

"He's coming back, then?"

"More than likely. You were worried that he wouldn't?"

"I wouldn't blame him if he chose to run. He probably should, in fact. I'm sure Alicia has told you what's been going on. There are many Montagues who feel Marcus is neglecting his duty."

"I don't understand that. He doesn't do what they want and they decide to kill him. It seems a bit stupid."

"It is when you look at it like that. You don't understand my family. My aunt went against the entire family when she married Marcus' father. He was a poor, ugly metalworker and she married him. The family tolerated the marriage but they didn't accept it. Marcus isn't really a part of the family because of that. If he wants to be he has to submit wholly to the elders. I think they see it as an insult that Marcus won't do that since we took care of him all those years. To them, it feels like an outsider's taken an inheritance that belonged to the child my aunt should've had. It's enough to make them want to kill him."

"Why doesn't Marcus want to submit? I don't see him as the Muggle loving type."

"He's not. He doesn't care about Muggles or the Muggle-borns. Marcus only cares about getting what he wants and living his life how he wants to. Politics is the last thing he thinks about. He doesn't like people telling him what to do. If he submits he knows he in for a lifetime of being treated no better than he was while he lived with us."

I can't imagine what Marcus must be feeling right now. For him, death is closer and more certain. I might be able to survive what's coming. I'm not sure if Marcus will.

"I can see why Alicia spends so much time with him," I say.

Alicia floos to Marcus' four or five days out of the week. I'm not sure what she's telling her parents but there haven't been any problems yet.

"Does she love him?" Montague asks.

"You've seen them together."

"That's not an answer."

"Of course she does. Alicia's not the type to mess about. She's all about monogamy and devotion."

"And where do you fit in? It looked like Marcus was building a harem."

I make a face, although the thought of having sex with Marcus doesn't disgust me as it once did. "I just go round there sometimes. It's free alcohol and entertainment. You should join us sometime. You're too serious."

"I have reason to be."

"We all do. We're just having a bit of fun before it's too late."

"What are you saying? You want us to be friends?" He sounds offended by the idea.

"At least until school starts. I don't think either of us could afford to be friends then."

"And anything that happens?"

"Will never be repeated as long as I live, as long as you agree to the same. Merlin's honour." I hold up my hand.

Montague is suspicious. "You don't even know what my beliefs are."

I'm getting frustrated. "I don't care! I'm just asking you to go out with us and buy me a pint if I don't have any money. This isn't a marriage proposal."

"And you won't be making your usual stupid Gryffindor judgements about anything I say or do."

"We're on holiday. Gryffindor and Slytherin don't really matter right now."

Montague inhales deeply. It's a long time before he speaks. "Alright, Johnson," he murmurs.

"Call me Angelina."

"Nicco," he says.


	5. Mon July 24, 1995 to Sat August 6, 1995

**Monday July 24, 1995**  
Alicia's owl comes as I'm deciding what to wear. Balthazar Takashi will be at Quality Quidditch Supplies at noon. Alicia writes that her mother suspects nothing and that she had a wonderful time in Paris. Marcus took her to the opera not realizing exactly what he was getting himself into. Fifteen minutes it he was so bored he had to find a way to occupy himself. "I'm glad we had a balcony to ourselves so no one could see what he was doing. I think I hit some high notes that night," Alicia wrote. I laugh for a whole five minutes. Alicia tells me not to forget to study. Our Apparation test is on Thursday.

I choose a yellow dress because it's bright and I know most of the fans will be wearing orange and black.

The store is already full by the time I get there. A few smiles and touches and I'm near the front.

I pick up a free poster near the cleaning supplies. Takashi grins up at me, his almond eyes sparkling. His hair is long, black and glossy. I want to run my hands through it.

At noon exactly Takashi enters from a side door, followed by a slew of people who stand on either side of him. A flash of his white teeth and the crowd goes wild. The women touch their hair and check their faces in their mirrors. I want to go home already. Takashi is as handsome as he looks in his photos, but he's becoming too real for me. I can't leave the store, though. The people are pushing forward and I would draw too much attention to myself to go in the opposite direction.

It's boring for the most part. Takashi makes a speech, the audience asks him a few questions, and a queue begins for his autograph. I stay because I have to get something out of this experience. I'll be disappointed otherwise.

"And who should I sign this to?" Takashi asks me, taking my poster. When I tell him he looks up at me and smiles. I smile back, my heart racing. "Are you in school?"

"I'll be going into seventh year."

"So you'll be taking your Apparation test soon."

"Thursday."

Balthazar smiles again. "Brilliant. The key is concentration. Remember that." He shakes my hand before I'm pushed out of the way by one of his more rabid fans.

I think about ice cream as I leave the store. I want a sundae.

Florean Fortescue's is relatively empty. I sit by the window with my treat and think about what I want to do for the rest of the day. I don't feel like going home.

"Excuse me, Miss. May I sit down?"

The man wears dark robes. In his hand is a worn book with the Chudley Cannons logo on it. He was among the men accompanying Balthazar Takashi.

"Do whatever you like," I reply.

You hear about this sort of thing happening, but you don't really believe it will happen to you. Takashi wants me to meet him in a room at the Leaky Cauldron. I stare at Antonio Finkus, his manager, wondering what kind of girl he thinks I am. I'm not above this sort of thing. I'm more concerned that he thinks I'm some naive school girl ripe for the picking.

I'm not sure why I say yes. I try to figure it out as I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for Takashi to arrive. It must be because he's a celebrity. Who doesn't want to sleep with someone famous? It's all about being close to glory and all the things we've always wanted. Or maybe I just want to shag somebody.

Before Mr. Finkus leaves the room he hands me a familiar potion and makes sure I drink it. Takashi comes in afterwards, smiling. I begin to feel like I'm drifting outside my body.

Takashi kisses me everywhere but my mouth. I don't mind. The foreplay is short and soon he's inside me, thrusting, groaning, and saying the most ridiculous things. It doesn't hurt this time. I understand better why people like sex.

"You are bloody beautiful," Takashi says. He's dressed. He has to leave for an interview.

I'm lying in the middle of the bed, barely covered by the sheets. I smile. "You're not so bad yourself."

He grins. "Maybe someday I'll see you at a game."

"Maybe." In my fantasies, I'm chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, beating the pants off his team.

**Thursday July 27, 1995**  
Alicia is looking at me like she's never seen me before as we walk down the corridors of the Ministry of Magic. She can't believe I slept with a famous Quidditch player. Even after two days, her brain won't accept it. She kept asking me what it was like, what he was like. I've told the story ten times in increments.

"You better get that look off your face before we go in there," I say when we get to the Apparation Test Center. "There'll be people in there we know."

Alicia nods and tries to look nonchalant. She looks like she's hiding something.

Fred, George, and Lee are waiting for us in the outer office along with a few other students from Hogwarts. Fred and I hug awkwardly. How do you greet the person who took your virginity?

Lee immediately starts talking about the chameleon he got and George starts wondering aloud if he can use any chameleon parts for whatever he and Fred are working on.

"It looks like I won't be able to see you after this," Fred whispers to me. "My Mum's not too keen on any of us going out."

"We'll see each other at school," I offer consolingly.

"I know, but…"

"There's nothing to worry about. There's always abandoned classrooms and such."

"I'm not worried about _that_."

Then what is he worried about? There's an earnest expression on Fred's face. I try to convince myself this is not happening, not now.

"Spinnet!" one of the testers shouts.

Alicia squeaks and stands up. "I'm going to fail."

I look down at the notes in my hand and try to forget that Fred is beside me. I'm glad when he does the same.

**--**

We all pass. Just for fun we Apparate to Florean Fortescue's. Fred and George can only stay for a little while. I nudge Alicia and point out where I was sitting when Mr. Finkus approached me. Her eyes go wide and she blushes as if it was there I'd had sex with Takashi.

The five of us share a bowl of ice cream that is about the size of the table. We all feel as if we're going to be sick when we finish it.

We Apparate back to the Ministry where Mr. Weasley is waiting in the lobby.

"I'll owl you tomorrow," Fred tells me.

I nod slowly. My stomach hurts and I don't want to think about what he'll say in his letter.

We kiss briefly on the mouth before we say goodbye.

**Saturday July 29, 1995**  
I wonder if Errol ever gets tired of slamming into my wall.

Fred's letter comes and it's not what I expect. He talks about Quidditch and wonders which one of us McGonagall which choose as Gryffindor captain. He says he won't be able to owl as frequently because he'll be away from home for a few days at a time.

I don't know what to make of the letter. Was Fred thinking of asking me to be his girlfriend and decided not to or was I over-thinking things yesterday?

I write him back and declare myself captain. I tell him to have fun wherever he's going.

**Tuesday August 1, 1995**  
Nicco is there when Alicia and I arrive at Marcus'. For once, he looks relaxed. He's had two glasses of firewhiskey. When he sees me he smiles a little and hands me a package of cigarettes.

"You'll have to buy your own case," he says.

It's the same as any other day. We drink and do silly things, then make ourselves sober before a game of improvised Quidditch. After we shower and are feeling more like ourselves, Marcus suggests we go to the Muggle pub about a mile away. Nicco isn't too keen on the idea but we convince him.

The pub looks a lot like Madame Rosmerta's and has a friendly atmosphere. We have fun playing darts and learning how to play the pinball machines. Nicco looks uncomfortable the whole time and frequently touches where his wand is concealed.

"That was fun," Alicia says when we get back to the house. "Muggles aren't so bad."

Nicco snorts and mutters something under his breath.

**Saturday August 6, 1995**  
To really celebrate passing the Apparating test, Alicia and I go to Muggle London. Alicia enjoys going to the stores like Harrods because it's so different from the Wizarding world. Everything under one roof was a concept I'd never known until I visited Muggle London.

We visit shop after shop, buying little things like soap, perfume and lotions. We save the clothes shopping until after we've had lunch. We need the energy.

I love Muggle fashion. The European Wizarding World needs to understand that it's time to stop wearing robes. I will continue to wear dresses until I die. This is the only thing I have in common with Mum. "These Europeans and their appalling sense of fashion," she always says to my aunt.

Alicia and I buy a few dresses that are bound to get us a few strange looks if we ever decide to wear them out. They're short, which is enough to get people muttering about indecent exposure.

We leave the knickers shop for last. It's like dessert.

"What do you think of this one?" Alicia holds up a lace bra. It looks uncomfortable, but I doubt she's getting it for its wonderful support.

"For Marcus?"

"I wanted to celebrate his birthday."

"His birthday is in January."

"There's no law that says you have to celebrate a birthday on the actual day," she replies.

"It's that what happens when you have a boyfriend? You start making stupid excuses to have sex."

"You make any excuse to have sex."

We spend half an hour in the shop. Alicia can be indecisive when she shops. She always wants to buy the best. Me, on the other hand, I just buy whatever I take a liking to. If I can't decide between something, I get both.

As Alicia is paying for her purchases, I walk around the store, looking for last minute finds. I'm near the door when it opens and Roger Davies walks in, followed by a young girl I assume is his sister. They both have the same dark hair and blue eyes.

"I'm not staying in here long," Roger tells his sister.

"You're such a bloody idiot. It's only knickers," she retorts.

"Oi! Language."

His sister scoffs and goes to the rack with lacy bras.

Roger swears under his breath. He doesn't move from the door. He shoves his hands in his pocket and looks anywhere but at the lacy things in front of him. It's too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Shopping for yourself?"

Roger jumps and I laugh.

"This is not happening," he says.

"I'm afraid it is. Don't be so embarrassed, Roger. Your sister's right. It's only knickers."

Roger wants to hit me.

"What do you think of this one?" Roger's sister asks, coming over to us. She holds up a bra similar to the one Alicia was looking at earlier.

"I don't know. I don't know anything about girl's undies," he replies.

"That's exactly the same thing Katie said," Alicia says, joining us. "Said it took you an hour to get off her bra."

"Oh good. You're here too." Roger wants to crawl in a hole and die, I can tell.

"Yes, Roger, a higher power does hate you," she replies. "Not for you, love. Too much lace. It's not very comfortable and not made for running around the schoolyard. Get something with less frills."

Roger brightens. "Look, you two can make fun of me all you want and I won't say a word if you can help her get three of those things, alright? I'll be back in half and hour." Roger is gone before we can agree.

"Bloody idiot," his sister mutters. Alicia and I agree.

Roger thanks us profusely when he gets back. I've never understood why men are so uncomfortable with women's underthings unless we're wearing it for them.

"Are you going home?" Roger asks. "It's still early. We can see a movie or go somewhere to eat?"

"Why so eager to be in our company?" I ask. Like most Hogwarts students, Roger never attempts deeper friendships with students from other Houses.

"I haven't seen anyone from school in weeks. I'm going out of my mind."

"I've never seen a movie before," Alicia says. "I like trying new things."

**--**

Movies are like Wizarding photos. This is the only explanation that makes sense to me. Roger tries to explain it using Muggle technical language, but Alicia and I stare at him with confused expressed and ask questions that when Roger answers confuses all of us.

After the movie, we go to a cafe next to the theatre. Roger's sister, Ana, sees some of her mates from school and sits with them. Roger is relieved because now we can talk freely.

"Have you been reading _The_ _Prophet_?" he asks. "Is everything they're saying true? About Potter and Dumbledore?"

"Bunch of fucking lies," I reply, getting angry. I can't read _The Prophet_ these days without getting upset. I almost thought of cancelling my subscription but I need to stay on top of what goes on in the media.

"I'm no expert but Dumbledore does seem a bit barmy—"

"He defeated Grindelwald," Alicia cut him off.

"That was ages ago. He's gotten old. He's probably senile."

Alicia and I glance at each other.

"You two are just defending him because he favours your House. If he didn't like Potter so much—"

"Ravenclaw still wouldn't have got the House Cup the last four years." It's my turn to cut him off. "I can't believe your basing your judgement on an award that won't mean shite when someone's trying to curse you with Avada Kedavra."

"I'm not basing it on that. All I'm saying is that _The__Prophet_ makes a good case."

"Roger, you're a bloody idiot," Alicia says, no trace of humour in her voice.

It occurs to me that Roger is truly a Muggle-born. He takes everything in the Wizarding World at face value and doesn't see the darkness under the sparkling veneer of magic. He trusts and believes in magic so he trusts the institutions set up around it. I also realize that _The_ _Prophet_ is meant for people like him. Muggle-borns and non-Purebloods have become the majority in our world. They don't have the ear for double talk and the eyes to see beyond appearances. It's easy to manipulate the masses, easy to take advantage of them. _The_ _Prophet_ is just another establishment, like the Ministry, meant to distract and sedate.


	6. Mon Aug 7, 1995 to Fri September 1, 1995

**Monday August 7, 1995**  
It's Mum's personal house elf who wakes me. I notice immediately that Tabby isn't dressed in her usual tea towel but in the velvet cloth she manipulates into a toga. She only wears this when she and Mum are going out. Tabby tells me my parents want to see me in the foyer.

There's a coach waiting outside. The house elves are shrinking Mum and Dad's luggage and taking them to it. I'm confused for a second, then I remember that it's August and my parents plan to go to Fiji or someplace like it. We've never discussed the topic since June.

"I guess you're leaving then," I say. It stings a little that they would just leave without previously telling me of their plans. I'm their daughter, yet the house elves know more about what goes on with my parents than I do.

"Yes," Dad says evenly. "We've left all the contact information with the house elves. Only use it if it's an emergency." That's a warning.

"When will you back?" I ask.

"Second week of September," Mum replies.

I try not to be surprised. That means they won't see me off on the first of September. They haven't done that since first year.

"This is the longest you've left me alone." My mouth is not connected to my brain, which advices me to say nothing until they've left. "How do you know I won't burn down the house or something?"

Mum's expression remains bland and unconcerned. "The house elves will take care of everything. As for you, I trust you know how to be discreet. You've not disappointed us yet."

"I guess I haven't," I murmur. I just can't win with them.

We give each other stiff hugs and quick kisses before my parents leave.

I walk the corridors for twenty minutes afterwards. The house feels empty and alien. It's the last place I want to be.

Fucking parents.

**Thursday August 10, 1995**  
I'm feeling a bit crazy, like I have to do something and I don't know what. I'm pleased when Alicia suggests we go to a Muggle dance club. I haven't danced in ages. Those stupid balls my parents sometimes take me to don't count. I hate those things. People weren't meant to dance so formally, as if they have their wand up their arse. Dancing is about being free.

Of course, Nicco protests. We threaten to go without him. It doesn't work at first, but finally he gives in, like always.

The club is loud, dark, and hot. As soon as we get inside, I feel it. It's there in the baseline of the music. It throbs and reverberates around the club. It's sex, lust, and energy, all mixed up and intoxicating. I head directly for the dance floor with Alicia while Nicco and Marcus get us a table in the lounge.

We dance for an hour before deciding to take a break. When we get to our table, I can't tell whether or not Marcus is angry or aroused, likely both.

"Who were those blokes you were dancing with?" he asks Alicia.

She shrugs. "Wasn't in a position to ask their names. If you're so jealous, maybe you should come out there with me next time."

"I don't dance," he responds sourly. "Not like that."

"I beg to differ."

Marcus nearly chokes on his drink.

Nicco smirks at his cousin but doesn't laugh. I doubt anything will get him to do that while we're here. It's unlikely he'll move from his seat unless someone forces him to.

After a few minutes of arguing, Alicia finally gets Marcus to agree to dance with her. This leaves Nicco and me at the table.

"Dance with me," I say, getting up.

"Not to this racket."

"It's not racket and you know it."

"Absolutely not."

I wonder if a good slap would do him some good. "Can't you just stop complaining and let go for once? This isn't torture," I snap.

Nicco is quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure how to dance to this type of music," he finally says.

"You've had formal training, right?"

"Of course."

"Keep all you've learned in the back of your mind and improvise on the moves. It's not that difficult."

"If I make a fool of myself I will hex you."

It's rough going at first. Nicco stands too rigidly and holds me in the formal ballroom dancing position. I have to teach him relax. When that's done it's only a matter of us moving together. When I close the distance between us I hear something like a squeak. I dismiss it because Niccolaio Montague does not squeak.

"This is practically obscene," he says as we move.

"That's why it's fun."

During our fourth dance it's perfect. Nicco holds me against him and the music pulses around and then in us. I start to feel it under my skin and in my bones. My heart seems to mimic the beat of the music. It's magic.

I'm not surprised when I feel it. It would be an insult if I didn't get some kind of reaction from Nicco, dancing with him this whole time.

"Happy to be with me?" I tease, rubbing my leg against his erection.

"Johnson," he growls.

I laugh, holding him closer. His body is tense, like cord about to snap. "I'm flattered, really."

"You should be."

It's not what I expected him to say. I was expecting the opposite, actually.

Knowing that he's won this round, Nicco grins, flashing his teeth. For a second, I don't know where I am.

**Sunday August 13, 1995**  
Despite Nicco's suggestions Marcus refuses to leave England. The Montagues are getting fed up.

"The first sign of a war and you're not with them, you're dead," Nicco tells his cousin.

"Then I'm dead," Marcus replies.

"Don't say something like that," Alicia shouts. "This isn't a joke."

"Who said I was joking?"

Nicco folds his arm, giving Marcus a harsh glare. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? They know how close we are. They're not going to ask Uncle Ottavio or my father to do it. It's going to be me. They think it would be the 'civilized' thing to do. It'd be showing you some mercy. However they dislike you, you're still blood."

Marcus doesn't flinch or show any emotion. "Then I guess you'll kill me. Family obligations, right?"

"Marcus—," Nicco begins.

"Shut up, Nicco. You've made your decision. I've made mine. I'm not going to be a fucking slave to them anymore. When it's time, when you come after me, I hope you can look me in the eye and tell me you're doing it because you believe in what you're doing, not because you're scared of what will happen if you don't. You better come to me as a man, Nicco, or I'll fucking make sure they won't be able to identify your body for a proper funeral."

Marcus sneers at Nicco's shocked expression. "You didn't think I was just going to accept this, did you? I'm not letting them dictate my life, why would I let them dictate my death? I love you, cousin, but I'll kill you before I let you kill me."

Marcus leaves the room, followed by Alicia. She's pale and shaking. With death on their minds, it'll be the best sex they'll ever have.

Nicco lights a cigarette and goes out onto the balcony. I wait a half an hour before I join him.

I don't say anything. I light my own cigarette and hoist myself up on the railing. I look down. If I fall, I'll likely break my neck. I must be drunk because all I can think about is that breaking my neck would lead to a very interesting sensation.

I glance at Nicco. He looks down at the garden with unseeing eyes. I wonder what he's thinking, if he's imagining what it would be like to kill Marcus, if he could ever do it. I can't imagine it. It's not that I don't think he's capable of committing murder, because I do. Everyone's capable of murder in the right circumstances. I just can't imagine Nicco killing someone he loves. If Nicco kills Marcus he won't call it murder, he'll say he was being compassionate.

Finally, Nicco turns to me. His face is hard. "If you say anything sentimental I won't hesitate to throw you over."

"I doubt any sentimental saying would be appropriate in this situation."

Nicco continues to stare at me.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Just say your piece and leave."

"What? Say what piece? What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Why did you come out here? Why are you here?" he demands.

His tone implies that he wanted to ask something else. I'm too confused by the layers of the question to reply.

Nicco sneers at me. He hasn't done that in a while, not in a serious manner. "I get it now. You came out here to comfort me. You think I need you. I don't, so just leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine," I say. I hate it when people get angry with me for no apparent reason. I don't like becoming a target because someone's going through some inner turmoil they're too arsed to deal with in a better way.

"God, I hope Marcus does kill you." I don't think about it, I just say it. At the same time, I try to hop off the railing but something goes wrong and I'm falling backwards.

I don't scream because everything happens too quickly. I'm freefalling for a split second and then just as quickly being pulled back. My heartbeat is deafening when my feet touch the ground. Nicco is in front of me, holding my arms. I can't feel them. I can't feel anything.

"Do I need to throw water on you?" he asks.

I want to laugh but I don't remember how.

"Are you alright?" Nicco asks.

I nod.

"You're an idiot, you know that," he says gently.

"I guess so." My voice is shaky. "I've been riding a broom since I was eight. I've never been scared of heights. I've never been afraid of falling.""

"This isn't a broom." Nicco says, touching the railing. "You didn't expect to fall. You didn't think of the possibility."

"Okay." My mind is coming back to me and I'm feeling sober and too awake. I need to go home. I need to leave this place.

I start to move away, but Nicco still grips my arm. "You didn't mean what you said, did you?" he asks quietly, breathlessly.

"About what?"

"About Marcus killing me?"

Did I? "Of course not. I was being stupid."

"Good," he murmurs.

It's like being in front of a door that says "Do Not Enter." You know you shouldn't go in. You know there's something bad on the other side, but you can't imagine it so you turn the knob.

"Why is that good?"

It's all there on Nicco's face. He wants me. Not like Alicia and Marcus want each other. He's not in love with me. He'd never allow that. His feelings all have to do with desire, want, lust and possession.

I'm paralyzed, but I have to move. "I have to go home," I say.

I don't wait for his reply.

**Monday August 14, 1995**  
I left because Nicco is not like Fred or Balthazar Takashi. With them, there was an element of control on my part. I dictated the when and where with Fred; I knew I could walk away from Takashi and there would be no consequences. I can't dictate anything with Nicco and I won't be able to walk away unless he wants me to. He's too much like me, always wanting control, always wanting to shape things, marking out the boundaries. Anything between us would be an unmitigated disaster.

I sleep on and off for most of the day. I don't feel like getting out of bed. The house elf seems to know this so she's especially nervous when she comes to me. There's someone to see me.

Nicco is in first floor sitting room, pacing slowly when I enter. I don't know what to think about him coming here. I didn't think it would be his next move.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"I don't know," he replies. "I think I'm discovering my masochistic side."

"If being here is some painful experience then maybe you should go."

"If everyone thought like that we'd never get anywhere."

We haven't even begun our conversation and I'm already tired. It feels like we're running in circles.

"Look, what do you want? I'm not in the mood for witty repartee or whatever."

"Two weeks," he says.

"Two weeks?" I repeat. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"You and me for two weeks, until right before school starts."

I try to convince myself that he's said something else. He hasn't.

"You just said you wanted to have fun this summer."

"I also said that I was the Minister of Magic and I was planning on running around the Ministry naked."

"You were very drunk." He smiles at the memory.

I resist the urge to smile too. "I'm not trying to hurt you, but any kind of relationship between us would be anything but fun. Do us both a favour and get out."

Nicco gets up and I think he's going to do what I say. I'm momentarily pleased with myself. Instead of heading for the entryway he comes to me. Nicco is quick for someone his size. Before I know it he's holding my arms, his lips pressed against mine.

I try to get out of his grip but he holds me tighter. This time I feel his fingers digging into my arm. I refuse to make a sound. I tell myself that I won't give in to him. All it takes it is just once and it all goes to pot.

When Nicco releases me we're both breathing heavily. I feel like killing him. I slap him instead. The sound echoes throughout the room. Nicco is still, not quite sure how to react. I arch my brow. He does the same and grins, predatorily.

We reach for each other at the same time, kissing harshly.

This is the only way it will work.

**Sunday August 16, 1995**  
We never make love. Instead we hurt each other. We bite, wrestle, and hold each other too tightly. When one of us tells the other to stop we don't. It becomes a game of escalation. He tells me to stop and I don't. When I tell him to quit he doesn't. All too soon, it's almost as if there's nothing between us but violence. Alicia says that's all sex is without love. She says that if we don't stop soon, we're going to kill each other. It's only been a week.

I can't answer the whys. Why do I do it? Why do I let him do it to me? Why does it have to be this way? It feels good. It's not all that matters, but it's all that I'm concerned with.

**Tuesday August 22, 1995**  
I haven't thought much about Fred in the last few weeks. The owls he sends are full of inane messages. I read his letters quickly and write back in the same inane style and then put him out of mind.

I'm thinking about him now. It must be because it's so close to the end.

I remember the way he laughs. It's always a full laugh, full of joy and life. I remember that he's quite handsome in profile. When I see him I always want him to put his arms around me. I love his body. It's so different from mine. Fred is a solid weight I can hold to. It always feels like I'm about to float away.

I remember that I'm in love with him.

**Monday August 28, 1995**  
I wake up on the floor, my back aching. Nicco is beside me, blowing smoke rings towards the ceiling. I'm too exhausted to do anything but shift a little so I'm not as aware of the pain.

"School will be starting in a few days," Nicco says absently.

I've been wondering when we were going to have this conversation.

"Don't worry. I won't follow you around like some lovesick Hufflepuff."

"I know you won't," he says quietly.

I don't know what to make of that so I say nothing.

Nicco puts out his cigarette and kisses me.

It's the closest we come to making love. Nicco's movements are a little slower, his touches are softer, but it still feels like I'm skating barefoot on a razor's edge. I still feel as if I'm being cut.

I watch Nicco dress, putting himself together meticulously.

"Goodbye," he says, his voice sounds like a dead weight.

"Goodbye," I reply.

This will never happen again.

**Tuesday August 29, 1995**  
I wake up early and go out the gardens to watch the sun rise. The summer is officially over, at least for me. As I watch the sun I wait for the old me, the one who would never do the things I've done, to return, but she never does. She didn't go anywhere.

I feel uneasy about the last two weeks. I don't know how to categorize and it and fit it neatly in the recesses of my memory where it needs to go. I don't regret Nicco, but I know what I did with him is nothing like everything else I did this summer. I won't be able to leave it behind.

After breakfast I decide to go into Muggle London. I need time away from the house.

I walk the streets in a sort of daze, looking at things but not really seeing them. For no reason at all I stop in front of a hair salon. A poster of a woman with long braids catches me eye. I've always wanted to have my hair done like that but never did it because I knew how much of an inconvenience it could be.

"But it'll look brilliant," I think. Right now, that outweighs any inconvenience.

I leave the salon well after dark. The braids are heavy and feel strange. My scalp tingles, but I do look great.

**Wednesday August 30, 1995**  
I get my Hogwarts letter. Not only does it have a list of all the things I need but also a letter from McGonagall. I've been made Quidditch captain and appointed prefect again. There's a list of the other Quidditch captains. Stephan Hood for Hufflepuff, Roger Davies for Ravenclaw and Niccolaio Montague for Slytherin.

I stare at Nicco's name.

"Of course," I say out loud. The universe wouldn't have it any other way.

**Friday September 1, 1995**  
I'm at King's Cross before the Hogwarts Express arrives. I watch it pull into the station, thinking of the last six years. Every September first I've arrived at the station barely able to contain myself. I've always felt like a stranger in my house after first year. Every time I arrived at Platform 9 ¾ it always felt like I was finally going home. This year, I'm strangely numb. I don't want to get on the train and I don't want to go home. I want to disappear.

"We're all going to hell," I mutter staring at the train.

When Alicia arrives, I've already chosen a car for us. I notice she has a certain glow to her when we get inside.

"What's happened? Has Marcus got you up the duff?"

She laughs and pulls out a necklace from under her blouse. There's a ring on it. "He's asked me to marry him," she whispers. "I've said yes. We're going to do it when I leave school. You'll be there, won't you?"

"Of course," I say. "Congratulations." I give her a hug. I'm happy for her.

"And before I forget, Nicco wants you to meet him in the last car of the train at two-thirty."

"Why?"

Alicia shrugs. "He didn't say."

I don't have any time to think on the matter because Katie bursts in the car, waving a large tome in her hands. It's an album, likely with every picture she's taken while in Puerto Rico.

By the time two-thirty arrives, we're only half way through Katie's photos. Lee and George visit for a few minutes, trying to get us to try one of the twin's new inventions. We refuse because we've known them far too long. Fred has yet to make an appearance. He's avoiding me.

I excuse myself and make my way down the last car. The glass is obscured, which makes me a little angry. If Nicco thinks we're going to shag he's very wrong.

"Alright, what do you want?" I say as I go inside.

Nicco doesn't respond. His expression is blank, guarded. He rises and faces me. We're only inches a part. He reaches out and touches my braids. He gives a slight nod of approval.

Something is different about him. I'm unsure about what to say or do.

"Why did you call me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice flat. I feel like panicking.

Nicco stays silent. He touches my arm lightly like he did that night before he kissed me. He cups my face in his hands and brings our lips together. It's not like the other times. This kiss is softer and full of the emotion that was never there before. What his face hides his kiss reveals.

Nicco pulls away and kisses me once more on the forehead before letting me go. He smiles a little before he leaves the car.

It always feels like the ground has disappeared and you're falling to an unknown depth when you find out you're wrong.

It wasn't what I thought when I looked at Nicco after he'd kissed me. It's more than likely I saw what I needed to see or what I could only imagine seeing. I think he loves me, or he did.

I realize that it was never a fight for dominance between us because I've always been in control. Nicco knew we'd never be like Marcus and Alicia so he took the hurt and the violence. It _was_ the only way it would work, for me anyway.

Knowing this makes me pity him. I hate feeling that way because it makes him seem weak and he's anything but. He's stronger than I am.

I pity him because I don't love him, because I can't.

I sit and watch the scenery pass as the train speeds along. We're in Scotland now. The window is open and I can smell the change in the air.

It's an hour before I leave the car and begin to wander back to my own. Alicia is still indulging Katie when I get back. George has returned. My stomach begins to twist in knots when I see that Fred in the car as well. The only place I can sit is beside him.

After a mumbled greeting I sit by the window. I look outside and try to ignore his presence. It's difficult.

After a time Fred nudges me with his elbow and holds out a sweet. "Want one?" he asks, grinning impishly.

I raise my brow. "Fred Weasley, the day I take anything from you without running a diagnostic charm is the day I run through the halls of Hogwarts naked," I say.

Fred laughs and everyone else snickers. Everything's all right now.

As the sun recedes my eyes begin to droop. We have a few hours before we reach Hogwarts. A short nap will do me a world of good. Without thinking I put my head on Fred's shoulder. He relaxes his body so that we're both comfortable. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of him. He smells like the soap Mrs. Weasley makes. He's warm and reminds me of the home that has no fixed location. With him, I remember what it's like to feel safe.

**--end--**

**A/N: **Title comes from "Demon Days" by Gorillaz.**  
**


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